Page 37 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

A droplet slides from the hollow of his throat down over sculpted muscle adorned with swirling black marks that are lovely yet radiate danger. The water traces the ridges of his abdomen before vanishing beneath the trousers hanging loosely on his hips.

Gods… How can the heir to evil be so damn attractive?

He should have warts on his nose.

Or crooked teeth.

Not a rock-hard stomach I want to knead with my fingertips and lick with my tongue.

“My eyes are up here, Sunshine.”

My teeth clack as I snap my mouth closed. My eyes fly up, and I scowl at the gleam in his irises.

“Don’t call me that,” I demand.

“My apologies, Elara.” His grin is slow, teasing.

My cheeks burn. “If you insist on sleeping here, I’ll go below deck and sleep with the crew.”

His gaze cools. “If you value their lives, you will do no such thing.”

The shadows rolling off his shoulders should deter me from poking the bear, but Gods help me, I can’t resist.

“You don’t own me, Rian. No matter what almost happened at the Late King’s Festival.”

“Ah, I was wondering when you were going to bring that up.” He crosses the room and opens the trunk at the foot of the bed.

Seconds later, he retrieves a pile of blankets without breaking eye contact.

The magic in my chest preens at the attention while the shadows on my arms tighten with anticipation.

Traitors.

“Nothing happened,” I say as he fans out blankets, laying them on the dirty cabin floor.

“Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, Sunshine.” He winks, then lowers himself onto the makeshift bed with effortless grace.

He rolls over and faces the wall.

The sound of the churning waves travels through the ship. Wood creaks. Men continue to shout and laugh on the other side of the cabin door. But Rian doesn’t make another sound.

Slowly, I sink back onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath me. My eyes stay fixed on him, watching…waiting for some flicker of movement, some sign that he’s only pretending to sleep.

But he doesn’t move. Not a twitch. Shadows cling to his bare shoulders like a blanket, soft but lethal. For one moment, I imagine that he stops breathing.

My magic hisses in protest, curling under my ribs like a reprimand.

I drag in a shaky breath and drop my gaze to the stained floorboards beneath my feet. Rian’s shadows have retreated to surround the floor where he lies.

My shoulders slump.

What am I doing?

This fight…this defiance… What’s the point?

The marks on my arms prove there’s no escaping the Shadow Prince. I am his captive until I fulfill our bargain…until I cure Darius from the curse that had hobbled his near-immortal body.

And yet…